


The Libidinus Curse

by RainReina



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-09-12
Packaged: 2019-05-08 16:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14697708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainReina/pseuds/RainReina
Summary: Something is very wrong with Professor Snape and Hermione Granger is determined to find out what it is and to help him any way she knows how.





	1. Chapter 1

The tiniest bit of milk splashed into her little cup of steaming tea and the dark fluid swirled with creamy white. She took a hesitant sip and moaned in satisfaction.  _Perfect!_

The kitchen was still, dark, and unseasonably chilly, even for the standards of the Most Noble and Ancient House of Black. It was well after midnight and Hermione Granger had given up on sleep.

The only sound was the ticking of an old clock and the distant hushhush of a healthy summer rain. She pulled her legs up into the chair beneath her and sipped her tea in the silence she'd been craving all day as her mind began to wander.

Maybe it had been a mistake. Not the breaking up part, but the getting together in the first place. She and Ron had had so much chemistry and history together for so long, it had been only natural. And they had spent that summer in a wild frenzy, working out every last bit of tension they had held onto through the years. But now that tension was gone and being with Ron felt hollow and wrong. There was something missing. It just wasn't quite right.

She never could have foreseen the way the boys would shun her. Weren't they supposed to be friends first, before everything else? On second thought, she really shouldn't be surprised. They had cast her aside enough times in the past, when her opinions and priorities didn't quite match their own. In fact, in hindsight, she really should have known.

The muffled sound of a door snapping closed made Hermione jump. She froze, straining her ears. The stairs creaked and her heart began to pound. She really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. And  _damn_  it was nearly 3 in the morning. If she couldn't find a moment alone  _now_ , when could she? Feeling trapped and inexplicably jumpy, Hermione slipped out of her chair and made as if to pretend she was taking her tea back up to bed.  _Oh please don't be Ronald_ , she thought. But when the door to the little kitchen creaked open, the hunched figure who appeared there, dripping wet and panting, was none other than Professor Snape.

Hermione froze in shock. Snape hadn't come by Grimmauld except for a few hurried Order meetings all summer. He had been busy fulfilling his role as spy at the Dark Lord's side.

Snape stumbled backward, leaned against the doorframe, pushing his hair away from his face and breathing heavily, his lips parted and his jaw oddly slack. His eyes were squeezed closed and his brows were knit together in a harsh line. He looked pained. His face seemed even paler than usual and as she watched his complexion grew visibly green before turning back to white.

Hermione gasped, setting her cup on the table and rushing toward the man. "Are you alright?" she asked, grabbing his arm intuitively, as if she could help keep him steady.

"No!" Snape shouted, throwing her off of his arm with such force that she stumbled backwards several feet. His eyes were wide with alarm as he stared down at her and his mouth was agape in horror. " _Granger!_ " he accused, sounding shocked and alarmed. "What the  _hell_  are you doing here?" He was leaning away from her as if she were a leper and something in his voice made Hermione afraid. But then something changed in his face, as if he'd had a thought. He composed himself, his breathing returning to normal, his posture growing rigid, and he looked down at her with keen, assessing eyes. Even his complexion seemed to change, looking healthier than it had a moment ago. "Fortuitous," he murmured in a low voice so quiet that she wasn't sure she'd heard him right.  _Huh?_

In three slow, calculated steps, he crossed the room to her and Hermione took a step back in instinctive alarm. There was something hard about his eyes now; something cold and cruel. She backed away until the sink was at her back and her professor was standing too close in front of her. "Professor?" she asked. He ignored her, lifting a hand to her waist, his panting returning full force. Alarm bells rang in Hermione's mind and she tried to twist away from her professor, but his other hand came down fast on her forearm, pinning her in place. She couldn't move. He was too strong. And something was very,  _very_  wrong.

Snape drew even closer, hunching over her trembling frame, staring down at her in heady concentration. From somewhere deep in his throat came a low growl that might have been a moan. His hand tightened on her waist, squeezing experimentally, and his eyes dipped down to assess the rest of her. Hermione struggled again, but he pinned her to the counter. Then the hand at her waist began to rise up her torso until his thumb nearly brushed her breast. Hermione was about to scream for help when he suddenly jolted backward, as if shocked.

Snape banged into the kitchen table so hard the whole thing shifted. His eyes were wide with shock and alarm and his face was back to green and milky white. For a long moment, Hermione stood there gaping at him in fear before he hissed at her, his voice breathless and afraid. All he said was one word. " _Run!"_

She fairly flew to her room, barely breathing until she'd slammed the door behind her and locked it with every ward she'd ever learned (and there were quite a few). Only when she was sure she'd done everything she could to lock him out did Hermione stop and stare at the coarse wood of the door in the darkness, gasping for breath as her heart thudded visibly in her chest, and wonder what the hell was going on.


	2. Chapter 2

"Miss Granger," Professor Dumbledore began in his kindest, most patient tone, "I'm afraid you are owed an explanation." He twiddled his thumbs together on the kitchen table, watching her with twinkling blue eyes. "Unfortunately, Professor Snape is unable to offer an explanation to you in person, for reasons that will become apparent momentarily. But first, let me say that we both deeply regret the incident last night, and that we are currently taking measures to make sure it never happens again."

Hermione nodded. "Is something wrong with Professor Snape?"

"Quick as always, Miss Granger. It seems your professor's… er… colleagues were unhappy with him last night and one of them took it upon herself to send him away with a little… gift."

"A curse of some sort?"

"Indeed, Miss Granger, I might wonder what use my explanation could be to someone so capable of guessing the truth of the matter. Yes, your professor was given a curse; an exceedingly rare, powerful curse. We still aren't sure quite how to tame it, although we have some… er… ideas."

"So this… curse... it must seize control of his mind some way."

"Yes. It emboldens certain parts of his mind, shutting out some others. I think you can guess which ones."

Hermione nodded, heat rising in her cheeks. "It must be very powerful for an Occlumens like him to have trouble keeping it under control."

"Indeed. We believe the effects would be much worse on a lesser wizard."

"So, will he be able to teach?"

"Well, we still have hopes that a remedy will be found in the days we have left before term starts back, but in the case that we do not… yes. In theory, he will be able to teach. He will have to… take measures… to ensure that the worst of the curse's effects do not cause danger to any of his students, but… yes. He will be able to teach."

Hermione wasn't surprised. After all, Dumbledore had allowed a werewolf to teach his students in the past. He hadn't exactly balked at putting his students in danger, either.

Professor Dumbledore cleared his throat, meeting Hermione's eye with a very serious expression. "I must ask you, Miss Granger," he began, "not to discuss this with your friends."

Hermione bit her lip, then nodded.

...

At the start of term feast, Hermione paid particularly close attention to Professor Snape. He looked more harried and unhappy than ever, stabbing at his dinner, scowling down at it with angry concentration. His skin looked sallow and sickly. More than usual. Eventually, he caught her eye and gave her a withering look as she blushed and glanced away.

Classes weren't much better. Snape was in a foul mood, shouting at students over nothing and handing out detentions like treats on All Hallow's Eve. Even the Slytherins were beginning to remark on his attitude out of class.

Hermione watched day after day as her professor grew sicklier and crankier. His skin turned gray. The bags under his eyes sunk in like the dead. He stopped bothering to comb his hair. She found herself staying up at night, worrying about his failing health and the fate of the Wizarding World. After all, they needed their spy rested and alert, and he was anything but. Could this have been the death eater's plan all along? Or just a ghastly unfortunate outcome?

She began to visit the library whenever she got the chance, searching through tome after tome for some reference to the curse that afflicted her professor. To no avail. It must have been an especially rare curse.  _Oh, if only I knew what it was called!_

She avoided her professor for the most part. He had made it quite clear, on the one occasion she dared to attempt to approach him about it, that under no circumstances was she to allow herself to be alone with him.

" _But surely you're alone with other students,_ " she had said.

" _Indeed,"_ he had replied, " _but none of my other students know of my condition. None of them know of the secrets surrounding it; of its implications. None of them are sworn to secrecy about anything that might jeopardize the Cause."_

" _So what?"_

" _So, Miss Granger,"_ he had said, drawing to his full height and wrapping his robes around himself, the better to intimidate her, " _that makes you an appealing target. With you, it is more difficult to maintain my control."_

Hermione had heeded his advice after that and fled out into the hall with the other students. She shivered to think what might have happened if no one had been around.

And then, one night, as Hermione finished her dinner, she was talking to Ginny when Luna appeared at their table. The strange, blonde girl wanted to know if Ginny was going to Hogsmeade that weekend, and once she had her answer she was on her way. Hermione watched the girl leave, skipping in an odd fashion down the hall. But when she turned back around, she noticed a disgruntled, agitated Snape, looking more feverish than she'd seen him in some time, hurrying toward those same double doors. He was rubbing his neck, his eyes on the floor, and she wondered if he had seen the other girl leave. She watched as he approached the double doors and jolted to a stop, his eyes riveted in the direction of the staircase. He stumbled backward, glanced around, ran a hand through his hair, and then his posture grew still and resolute and he swept off toward the stairs.

Hermione was out of her seat and practically running toward the exit before she'd had time to think. When she reached the Entrance Hall, her eyes leapt to the spiral staircase. An oblivious Luna was reading a copy of the Quibbler and humming loudly as she slowly climbed the stairs. And there, not far behind, was Professor Snape. He looked manic, his eyes riveted on the slender blonde as he crept quickly and silently behind her, looking for all the world like a stalking cat.

Hermione acted before she'd had a chance to think. "Professor!" she shouted, jogging out to the bottom of the stairs. He spun around, looking caught and trapped, his eyes wide and taken aback. "Er… are you alright?"

In the moment it took for him to consider the question, his demeanor changed. His eyes narrowed, his fear melting to calculation. He swept down the stairs in one smooth motion and was promptly standing just feet away from her. "Why, Miss Granger?" he began in a silky, deep voice that sent a shiver down her spine. "Are you here to rescue me?"

Hermione gulped, heat flooding into her face. "I just… was worried about you," she stammered, taking a step back. Maybe this was a bad idea.

"Such a good little Gryffindor you are," he said. She'd never heard him use his voice like this before. "So noble, so…  _brave._ " He closed the space between them, towering over her, and wrapped one hand around her arm. "But you know," he murmured so low she had to strain to hear him, "for once, there  _is_  a way you could help me."

"Wh-what?"

"I could take you back to my rooms right now," he hissed, his expression growing manic again; desperate;  _mad._ His eyes were practically bulging out of his head. "Have you ever heard of the  _Libidinus Curse_ , Miss Granger?" His grip was tight on her arm. Hermione tried to pull away.

"Severus," a deep voice interrupted from behind her. Snape dropped her arm and she spun around to face Professor Dumbledore. At first glance, the old man seemed his usual, serene self, but beneath that Hermione could see that he was shaken.

When she glanced back at Professor Snape he had gone pale again, his eyes wide with alarm. " _Granger,"_  he hissed, his voice shaken and angry, "you are a bigger fool than I imagined."

"Miss Granger," said Professor Dumbledore in a quiet, calming voice, "now would be a good time to grab a seat by the Common Room fire, don't you think?"


	3. Chapter 3

The  _Libidinus_   _Curse._ At last she had found it. Hermione buried her nose in the ancient tome, tuning out the sounds of her fellow students teasing each other and being sociable all around her. She had work to do.

Apparently the  _Libidinus Curse_ strengthened the part of a person's mind responsible for their libido. Unsurprising. It was  _supposed_  to strengthen it to the point that that person could do nothing else until he or she had satisfied that appetite. True copulation with another person would diminish the effects of the curse for a day or so, but there were other ways to  _relieve_  the symptoms. Unfortunately for her professor, masturbation could only do so much. It would never fully satisfy the craving and, therefore, would only slightly diminish the effects of the Curse on his mind.

No wonder Snape had been so cranky.

Hermione sat back, rolling the information around in her head. He was obviously treating himself the only way he was able, and it clearly wasn't enough. He was the Order's  _spy_ , after all! It was no good for him to be so exhausted all the time. What if he slipped up? He couldn't possibly be doing all he could for the Cause if he was operating at half capacity all the time! What they really ought to have done is find a witch who was willing to  _treat him_ , herself, for a while. Of course, that did bring up the dilemma of finding a willing witch who already  _knew_  all of his secrets.  _Tricky._

Snape's words echoed in Hermione's mind. " _None of my other students know of my condition. None of them know of the secrets surrounding it; of its implications. None of them are sworn to secrecy about anything that might jeopardize the Cause… That makes you an appealing target."_

She gulped. He had  _definitely_ been implying that she was a likely candidate. And then… last night… in the Entrance Hall. Her cheeks grew warm just thinking about it. He had practically  _begged_  her to come to his rooms with him. He had given her the name of his curse. He  _must_  have known she'd look it up. Was he hoping she would come to the conclusion…  _oh Merlin._ The thought of Professor Snape wanting her sexually made a pool of heat collect deep in her belly.

Could she do it?  _Merlin!_ She couldn't believe she was actually considering this! And yet… it did make sense. It would solve a lot of problems. It might even help the Cause. And what would she really be sacrificing, anyway? She wasn't a virgin, after all. She'd spent all summer seeing to that. And she already had birth control. Plus, she had to admit, the thought of sex with Professor Snape was kind of tantalizing. He was an experienced wizard, intelligent, perceptive. Just the thought of those dark eyes boring into her…  _Oh GODS,_  was she really considering this?

Hermione waited, watching her professor during class the next day. He was a mess. He looked like he'd been tossing and turning all night and just barely managed to roll out of bed in his wrinkled clothes for class. He kept darting his eyes away anytime they came close to landing on her. She knew, without a doubt, that he knew she'd gone and read about his curse. She wondered if he was hoping she'd come to the conclusion she had.

Briefly, Hermione considered speaking with him right after class. But she knew that was folly. If- _when_ -she told him of her decision, there was no telling how he would react. She couldn't risk being late to class.

And so it was that Hermione Granger found herself pacing outside of Professor Snape's office directly after dinner. Technically, these were his office hours, but it was too early in the year for anyone to take advantage of that.

They would remain undisturbed.

Hermione knew that once she entered those doors, there would be no going back. He would know why she had come. But she was starting to doubt herself. Was this really a good idea? Wasn't she playing with fire? Shouldn't she talk to Professor Dumbledore, first?

 _No._  He would surely forbid her from taking the action she was already planning to take. And shouldn't he? As her Headmaster? No, this was in her hands, now. She knew what she had to do.

Hermione knocked.

"Come in," drawled the faintly annoyed voice of her professor. Hermione's heart leapt up into her throat. There was no turning back now.

Professor Snape's eyes flashed when she stepped into his office. He set down his quill. His pupils dilated; his nostrils flared. "What do you think you're doing here, Miss Granger?"

"I… er… well, I was hoping I could speak to you."

"It is unwise for you to visit me alone."

"I know, but... I've been reading about your curse."

"Of course you have. Don't you think I knew what I was doing when I told you what it was called? Clearly, under the circumstances, I cannot be trusted. I must advise you to leave."

"Professor, I'm trying to tell you…"

" _Now_ , Miss Granger. You are fortunate that my… condition… is relatively  _mild_  at present."

"But not gone altogether. You're not…  _treating_  it, are you? Not properly, anyway…"

Snape glared down at her, his patience clearly slipping. "Get  _out_ , Granger."

" _No,_ " said Hermione, lifting an eyebrow. "Listen. We can't afford to have you incapacitated right now. Until you can get rid of this curse, you need to  _treat_  it. Properly."

Snape lunged to his feet, pushing his chair back with a loud  _Erck!_ "Out!" he shouted. "Before I lose my grip."

"No, Professor, you're not listening..."

"Don't you understand?"

"Yes! I do! That's what I'm trying to tell you!"

"Granger… if I have to drag you…"

"I want to help you!"

Snape froze. His jaw dropped and his eyes bulged with alarm. His fingernails dug into the desk, apparently in an attempt to remain in control. "Bloody  _hell_ , Granger… I  _cannot_  be held responsible…"

"I know, Professor," she murmured, her eyes pleading, sympathetic. "I'm giving you permission."

At that, his shoulders relaxed and his eyes fell closed. "Oh  _gods,_ " he murmured, shivering slightly. When he opened his eyes again, they had lost their panic and grown darker than ever, boring into her soul. He came around the desk in one fluid motion, his hands going straight to her waist. Hermione gasped as her professor shoved her up against his desk, his eyes flitting across the many parts of her body, his breathing fast and shallow.

" _No!_ " he shouted, stepping away, raising his hands in the air. "Granger, go,  _now_. I won't be able to stop…"

"That's alright, Professor," she whispered, breathlessly, "you need this. I'm here to help."

The last of his resolve slipped away and he closed the distance between them. His trembling hands went under her skirt, pushing it up her thighs, lifting her onto the desk, reaching between her legs. Hermione whimpered. His fingers wrestled with the cotton of her knickers, diving beneath the fabric to probe her experimentally. He slowed. His knees nearly buckled and he let out a harsh, ragged sigh. "So  _wet,_ " he groaned. Hermione couldn't believe what was happening. She marvelled at the feel of her professor's fingers deep inside her as he fiddled with the buttons of his trousers.

Her heart pounded. He was going so fast. He was out of control. She wanted to tell him to wait, slow down, but she knew it would do no good. And then he was pulling his throbbing cock from his trousers and…  _oh Merlin!_  He was huge. Her eyes bulged when she saw it. The tip was swollen and raw and it had a distinct upward curve. She could just see the soft white of his belly, all covered in curly black hairs. Somehow, she managed to feel embarrassed by that intimacy a second before he pulled her knickers aside and began to press against the tender opening hidden there. They both gasped at the contact of flesh on flesh as he pushed the head of his cock past her entrance. Then he thrust himself as far as he could inside of her.

She gasped. He froze, moaning like a man in pain. His hand was at the small of her back, the other on the surface of the desk, and his shoulder was nearly pressed against her face. She tried to breathe. Her body wasn't ready for his length, but it didn't  _hurt_  exactly _._  And then he was moving inside of her, pulling out and thrusting back into her in a slow, savouring rhythm. Hermione gasped, breathing in the oily scent of his hair, marvelling at the feeling of his cock inside her and the unexpected thrill of having her professor fuck her on top of his desk.

Snape got rougher and moved faster as his control slipped away until he was pounding desperately against her, pushing her back against the surface of his desk and leaning over her, bracing himself to drive into her harder and harder. His face was contorted with what might have been pain and he began to grunt aloud as his movements became erratic and his eyes squeezed closed.

He froze above her, his breath catching, his jaw dropping, as he moaned in agonized pleasure, rocking tenderly against her. Then his shoulders slumped and he dropped his head, panting into her ear. And he murmured to no one in particular " _Finally._ "

Hermione's body already ached, but it also throbbed with a need for him to continue. She felt her leg twitch. And then her professor's frame grew rigid and he lifted his head to look down at her. Shock became horror as he stood and pulled out of her with a wet sound that made both of them wince. Then horror became anger as he glared down at the girl on his desk.

"What have you done?" he asked in a breathless voice. One hand had gone to his chest. The other clutched at the fly of his trousers, trying to cover himself from her sight. He backed away.

Hermione pulled her legs together, wincing again at how wet she was down there. She stood up, dismayed to feel her professor's seed dribbling down her leg. "It's okay," she said, trying to sound confident; trying not to show him just how unprepared she'd been.

"Granger, I warned you… I told you…"

"I knew what I was doing! It's okay!"

" _No_ , it's  _not!_ "

"Please, Professor…"

"Get out!"

"I didn't mean…"

"Get  _OUT!_ "

Hermione startled. She'd never seen him so angry. Her rational mind and her Gryffindor bravery fled, leaving her with only one option: to run.

Her thighs smacked against each other, wet and obscene, all the way to Gryffindor tower. Hermione slowed down enough not to invite questions, but hurried through the Common Room and didn't stop until she'd shut herself away, safe behind the curtains of her four poster bed. And then she buried her face in her hands and sobbed.

…

_AN: Thanks so much for following my story so far! Please, do me a favor and leave a review letting me know what you thought. Even the one or two word reviews really brighten my day and show me that someone is enjoying the way my story is going and wants me to continue. Thanks!_


	4. Chapter 4

Hermione nearly didn't go to breakfast the day after her  _encounter_  with Professor Snape. But she was glad she did. It was obvious she had done him a world of good, even from her vantage point across the Hall. He still looked tired, but the anxious energy was gone, leaving only a mellow weariness that spoke, to her, of healing. His skin looked better, too, and she found herself smiling. It didn't matter if he hated her after this. She really had helped, and even he had to realize that.

She kept an eye on him at mealtimes until Potions the next day and patted herself on the back for his marked improvement. When he ignored her in class, rather than single her out, she took it as a good sign. And when he asked her to stay after, she wasn't even afraid.

When she approached his desk, however, that began to fade away. Although the room had emptied, he took his time, staring down that enormous nose at her with black eyes that gave nothing away. She had been so confident and yet, now, standing before him, the air thick with the memory of what had transpired the last time they had met, Hermione couldn't seem to meet her professor's eye.

"Miss Granger," Snape began at last, drawing out the syllables in his usual dramatic way, " _honorable_ … as your intentions were... Wednesday evening… that must never happen again."

"But…"

" _Quiet._  Now is the time for  _listening_ , Granger." She gulped, but said nothing as he stood and turned toward the board behind his desk. "Had I been in control of my faculties…" he purred, somehow demanding the same respect even with his back to her, "I never would have allowed that to happen."

Hermione huffed. "And now you  _are_  in control," she blurted out, "which is entirely the point."

Snape spun around to face her, slamming his hands down on the surface of his desk. "Damnit, Granger. How  _dare_  you presume to tell me…"

"There's too much at stake! You were  _exhausted_  trying to keep ahold of yourself. It was  _draining_  you. And you have so many important things that demand attention and energy… you couldn't continue on like that for long."

His eyes flashed, anger glinting in their fathomless depths, and she knew she had made a valid point. "Granger," he tried again, his voice becoming impatient, "this shouldn't be your choice to make."

Hermione balked at that. "Excuse me?"

"That is…" He dropped his eyes to the surface of the desk in what she was surprised to see was embarrassment, "under the circumstances… my… acquiescence… cannot be considered...  _consent_."

 _Oh_. Hermione sat back in her chair. She couldn't argue with that. "I… I didn't mean…" she started, "I wasn't trying to…"

"Yes well, your intentions cannot change the facts." His eyes were hard, now; chastising. "I must ask you not to do it again."

Hermione chewed her bottom lip. "Sir, you should consider, at least. Is your pride, or your revulsion of me, worth risking the Cause? Or even your life?"

"It isn't that simple, Granger. You are my student… a  _child_ …"

"I am a legal adult…"

"You are a  _student_  in my  _charge_."

"And we have a war going on. That changes everything."

For a moment, to her shock, he seemed at a loss for words.

Her confidence surged. "And…" she hurried on, "if you can't consent  _now_ , when you're level-headed, how will I ever be able to take your word again?" He scowled at that, straightening to his full height and turning away from her again. "You should consider, Professor. The fate of the Wizarding World is at stake and you have a vital role to play. I'm sorry that I'm your only option, but I  _am_  an option. It only makes sense to take advantage of that."

Professor Snape let out a frustrated sigh. "It isn't that  _simple_ , Granger…" He seemed to be searching for a better reason and coming up empty. Hermione sensed that his anger was rising and was afraid he'd shut her out altogether and not give the thought a chance.

"Listen," she said, pushing her chair back to stand, "the effects of the curse are usually only mitigated for a day or two, so we're running out of time. I'll visit you again tonight, after dinner. You should still be in control by then, don't you think? Just think about it, Professor. Please. Really consider. There's a lot on the line."

Snape hesitated for a long moment, his back to her, his posture rigid. "You'll want a note for your next class, I suppose," he said at last. And then he sighed and turned to address a scrap piece of parchment to Professor Binns without once meeting her eye.

…..

Hermione was a good ten minutes into supper, chomping at her roast beef while reading for Transfigurations, before she realized Ron wasn't sitting with them. The jolt of realization had her eyes darting up and down the table in surprise until she saw him a ways off, sitting with Lavender Brown.

Her jaw dropped.

He was giving Lavender all his attention; a broad, happy smile on his face. If she hadn't known better, she never would have guessed he'd been in a serious, committed relationship only a couple of weeks ago. Of course, it was hypocritical for her to be upset about him moving on when she was taking the steps she was with Professor Snape, but it still hurt to see him  _so over it_ , so ready to move on, so eating up whatever nonsensical drivel that  _idiot_  Lavender Brown was spouting.

 _No._  No. That wasn't fair. Lavender may not have been Hermione's best friend (and  _hardly_ her intellectual equal), but she didn't deserve such harsh criticism for the mere fault of having drawn a stupid boy's undiscerning attention. If anything, Lavender was more his speed, more his style. They could have a meaningless, tension-less physical relationship and probably both be satisfied by that. Who was she to begrudge him that when what he had to offer was not enough for her?

And still she found herself sulking, glaring at the page she was supposed to be reading without taking in a single word. Why had she thrown herself at Ronald, knowing it could not work out long term? And why was she upset that it hadn't?

Lavender laughed unreasonably loud and Hermione fought the urge to roll her eyes at the vapid blonde.  _Honestly. Like I care._

She turned her attention to the high table and let her gaze fall upon Professor Snape. He was scowling at his plate in serious contemplation, frozen in his chair. She thought about the way he'd felt inside of her and had a sudden strong desire to have him do that again. And in a blink it didn't matter what Ron was doing with that airhead Lavender Brown. She could have him. Beside their professor, he was just an awkward, fumbling teenage boy.

…

"You should know…" Professor Snape began once she had seated herself in the chair before the very desk where he had…  _taken_  her just two days ago. "I have spoken with the Headmaster."

Hermione's mouth fell open and heat flooded her face. "What?"

"Naturally, it was vital he be made aware."

"But…"

"Granger! Do not tempt me to take House Points for speaking out of turn." He paused, letting those words sink in, then glanced away. "He was very…  _logical_  about it." Hermione could hardly breathe. Was he saying what she thought he was? Snape cleared his throat. "You have asked me to consider your…  _repellant_  proposition. And I have." Her heart sank. She wanted to argue with him. Already, fear was rising up inside of her, riding on the coattails of her shame. They  _needed_ every advantage in this war. The world was at stake! The lives of her closest friends were on the line. Her own parents were in danger. How could he be so stubborn? But then she noticed the dejected slump of his shoulders and the hesitant way he studied the surface of the desk. He must have realized she had noticed this because he stood and began to pace.

"You are in possession of some manner of contraceptive?" he asked, not looking at her.

"Yes," she breathed, her shoulders relaxing even as her heart began to race.

"You will retain the right to refuse me at any time."

"Of course."

"And you… you will go to the Headmaster if I ever…" he couldn't seem to finish.

"Yes."

He sighed, some of the tension leaving his weary frame, though the crease between his eyebrows only seemed to grow deeper. "I still have not decided. That is… I still plan to avoid… this. But," he hurried on before she could object, turning to look down at her with wary eyes. He sighed and it was a sad, defeated sound. "I will give you my consent."

...

_AN: Thank you soooo much to everyone who has Reviewed so far! I can't tell you how much I appreciate your support!_


	5. Chapter 5

Having as much as accepted the girl’s proposal, Severus couldn’t push her out of his mind. It must have been the fact that she was available, at his disposal, whenever he needed her. He groaned. He’d been trying to grade papers for the last hour, but all he could think about was having a House Elf find her and bring her here. Perhaps he just needed a little relief. 

 

Sweeping up the parchments on his desk, Severus took the remains of his work to his quarters, dropping them onto the desk he kept there before collapsing into his favorite armchair. His cock was hard before he even began to unbutton his trousers. Just the prospect of fucking her again was driving him mad. And it was going to happen. He couldn’t deny that fact anymore. Sometime, in the very near future, he was going to fuck Hermione Granger. 

 

Severus groaned, taking himself in hand and letting his head fall back against the chair. He imagined the look on her face if he summoned her here; the way her eyes would go wide and her pretty pink lips would part in surprise.  _ ‘You asked for me, Professor?’ _ she might say. 

 

_ ‘Indeed. I have need of your… services.’ _

 

_ ‘So soon?’  _ she might ask, knowing full well that he couldn’t possibly be that desperate already. But she wouldn’t argue. No. She had agreed to this. She wanted to help him; to give herself to the Cause… and to him. 

 

_ ‘Yes,’  _ he would tell her, unashamed by the lie, and he would tell her to take off those ridiculous clothes. 

 

She would comply. 

 

Severus tried to picture the girl naked, her pale skin so smooth and firm. Her breasts would be smallish, but round. Her hips would have the slightest flair. The curls at the juncture of her legs… well, he didn’t need to imagine those. He could still remember their light brown color and how they’d hidden a remarkably tight, wet cunt.  _ Oh Merlin!  _ She would feel so good, straddling his lap, taking him inside of herself, rocking against him, so eager to please. Severus groaned at the thought, picturing the girl bouncing on his lap right now, gauging his reactions, trying so hard to do a good job of it. He would wait, let her torture him a bit. And then, when it got to be too much to bear, he would grab hold of her hips, holding her still, and her eyes would go wide as he slammed harder and harder into her until…

 

Severus came all over his hand, groaning into the chilly dungeon air. He slumped back into his chair, his mind clearing, and shame descended like a cloud. What the hell was he doing? She was his student. He should at least have the decency not to fantasize about her when he took care of himself. It left a hollow, uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. After all, if he was already this close to sending for the girl, there was no hope that he wouldn’t do it when he got desperate enough. And that would be very soon. He had no doubt. 

 

…..

 

“Miss Granger,” Professor Dumbledore began, “thank you for agreeing to meet with me.”

 

“Of course, professor,” she responded, taking the proferred seat before his desk. 

 

The Headmaster’s eyes were without their usual twinkle today as he stared down at his student with a sad, little smile. “It is a brave thing you are doing,” he told her. 

 

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “It’s only logical,” she replied. 

 

“It is true that you are in a unique position to… assuage the effects of your professor’s curse. I am certain he has been less than grateful to you, but I hope you know that he is, in his own way. And so am I.”

 

Hermione nodded, but said nothing. She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. 

 

“I assure you, we are working tirelessly to find a cure for the curse dear Bellatrix has laid upon him. Until we do, however, he is in a vulnerable position. I do not believe Severus… ehem, I mean Professor Snape… will willingly accept what you have offered. Likely, he will try to postpone his… treatment… as long as possible. It is my hope--and I think you will agree with me--that he will come to realise that it is dangerous to wait too long.”

 

“Yes,” Hermione agreed readily. “Exactly. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him. He’s putting himself and the whole world at risk. If he makes a mistake, in his weakened state, it could be detrimental to the Cause.” 

 

Dumbledore smiled at her over the tops of his steepled fingers. There was a glint of pride in his eyes. “You are precisely right, Miss Granger. And though I think we both agree that this unfortunate arrangement must become a regular occurrence before long… I want you to promise that you will come to me if it ever gets out of hand.” 

 

“Of course. Yes. I promise.”

 

“Severus is afraid that he will hurt you. The curse causes him to lose control. And more than that he is afraid that you will not report him to me. Promise me that you will.”

 

“I will. I promise.”

 

“Of course, if we can convince him to… treat the effects… before he becomes desperate, perhaps he will be better able to maintain his control.” 

 

“Yes, absolutely. I’ve been saying that, as well. It’s not enough that we treat it when he can’t help it anymore. We need to treat it regularly, so that he can function at full capacity.”

 

Dumbledore nodded, his blue eyes assessing her with weary sadness. “You are a remarkable witch, Miss Granger. There are few who would offer up such a sacrifice, even in the face of this terrible war. Please let me know if there is anything I can do.” 

 

…..

 

Hermione almost didn’t go to Hogsmeade. Ron and Lavender were going to Madame Puddifoot’s together, and Harry was taking Ginny there, too. She couldn’t help the icy snake of jealousy that wrapped around her spine and coiled in the hollow beneath her ribs. Not that she wanted to take Lavender’s place. 

 

She rolled her eyes at herself. Why was she so upset about the two of them? It wasn’t like she and Ron had something magical and she’d gotten in the way. The two of them had worked out every last bit of chemistry they’d had until nothing was left but the awkwardness of friendship salvaged from a summer fling. She groaned. Not even that. They hadn’t spoken much since the new term began and Hermione knew that was mostly her fault. The more she brushed off thoughts of their summer beneath the sheets, the more she remembered the friendship they’d had before everything got muddied up with sex.  _ It really does change things, _ she realized. They had known that, going in, on an intellectual level. But experiencing it was a whole different thing. So, too, was the experience of breaking apart from someone who wasn’t a good match in the first place. In theory, everything was perfectly fine. But in reality… she missed him. 

 

The path to Hogsmeade was empty by the time Hermione made up her mind to go. She would probably have regretted not taking the opportunity to get out of the castle grounds. And anyway, she’d love a chance to visit the bookshop in town for something new to pour her attention into. She needed a good distraction. 

 

Wandering the stacks of brand new books set Hermione’s heart at ease. There was something so quiet and peaceful about shelves upon shelves of thick, fresh paper full of stories and new information just waiting to be absorbed. But with so many options, just what exactly did she want to read? 

 

Hermione began to walk down the aisle, her eyes leaping from header to header indicating the topics each section contained. She considered  _ History _ , but just wasn’t really in the mood, oddly enough. Instead, she wandered over toward the larger category of  _ Spells. _ Here, the topics were marked  _ Charms _ ,  _ Wards _ ,  _ Transfiguration _ ,  _ Hexes & Curses _ . Of course! Maybe the bookstore would have something with more information about the Libidinus Curse. She strode toward the very last aisle, her mind made up, and swung around the corner. 

 

“Oh!” she couldn’t help but exclaim as she came face to face with Professor Snape. He was holding a thick tome in his hands, his head bent in concentration as he poured over the text. When he saw her, his eyes went wide and he stepped backwards in alarm, bumping into the shelf behind him with a look of panic on his face. She’d never seen him so on edge. It was unnerving. 

 

“ _ Granger _ ,” he snapped. “What are you doing here?”

 

“I thought I’d… do a bit of research…” 

 

“Yes, well,” he grumbled, his eyes flitting over her body before snapping up to a place above her head. “You’ve done quite enough.” 

 

“It can’t hurt, can it?” she found herself saying, annoyed by his arrogant tone of voice. “If you want to find a cure…”

 

“Lower your voice,” he hissed. “Little fool.” 

 

Her eyes grew wide and she glanced around, feeling the color drain from her face. He was right. That was careless. If the wrong person found out that she knew about his curse… 

 

“Come here,” he growled, beckoning her out of the center aisle. She obeyed, and he reached out and took hold of her arm, pulling her the rest of the short distance to him. She nearly collided with his solid frame and her eyes suddenly fixated on the buttons of his coat mere inches from her face. She felt the gentle tickle of his nose breathing in the scent of her hair and her head snapped back to look up at him in shock. “So  _ obedient _ ,” he murmured low enough that she could barely hear. His voice resonated deep inside of her, stirring up a fire in her core. His hand slipped around to her lower back and she gasped as he pulled her tight against himself. Even through the many layers of material between them, she could feel the hardened length of his erection. 

 

“Sir,” she gasped in a breathless whisper, “we’re in a bookstore.” 

 

Snape seemed to shake himself out of it at that, blinking down at her until clarity returned to those deep, dark eyes. Then he shoved her away. “ _ You _ ,” he growled, stepping past her, “are more of a  _ hindrance _ than you are a  _ help _ .” And with that, he swept away, his cloaks billowing out behind him, even in the stale air of the bookstore. Hermione was frozen to the spot a moment longer, staring after his retreating form and gasping. 

 

…

 

**AN: Thank you so much for reading my story so far! Please drop me a note to let me know what you think! THANKS!!!**


	6. Chapter 6

Hermione really did understand why her professor was avoiding her; why he was being extra cruel to her in class and grading all her papers more harshly than usual. She understood it, but she still thought he was being a total arse. A selfish part of her thought that, if anything, he ought to be nicer to her now. But she knew that wasn’t fair. He didn’t owe her anything. It was her own choice to sacrifice herself on the altar of his needs. It was her own choice to give herself to the Cause. But did he have to be so damn mean about it? 

 

He was looking pretty bad again. It had been two weeks since he’d given his consent but he was still attempting to hold out. Professor Dumbledore agreed that it was foolishness. They needed their spy at the top of his game and the best way to ensure that was to treat his curse regularly. But the man was too stubborn. She was beginning to wonder if he would ever cave, or if it was up to her now. He had given her his consent, after all. 

 

Lavender’s excessive laughter brought her attention back to the table. She and the boys had made peace with each other, with the stipulation that Lavender Brown was now part of their group. Indeed, their trio was now a quartet. The Golden Four, you could say. Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry who pressed his lips together in annoyance. Yes, at least someone else in the group saw how ridiculous this was. 

 

…..

 

After dinner, Severus shut himself away. “Moppy,” he choked out before the door had even closed. The House Elf appeared in front of him, looking skeptical, but patient. He hesitated, gritting his teeth, then let out one harsh breath. “Nevermind.” 

 

Moppy gave him an amused grin and a bow before disappearing once again. 

 

Severus collapsed into his favorite chair. He’d almost let himself believe he would actually summon her this time. It took so much energy to constantly fight that inner voice telling him to give in. He’d found that if he walked the careful balance of entertaining the notion while maintaining his control, he was able to concentrate long enough to make it through the day and also have a suitably strong fantasy to bring himself off to later. So far, he hadn’t given in. 

 

It was always the same fantasy. He would have Moppy go to her and tell her she was needed and that it was urgent. She would know why he sent for her. But she would still look so surprised to find herself standing in her professor’s bedroom. The thought made him groan aloud. He would ask her to help him the only way she could, and her Gryffindor selflessness would compel her to comply. 

 

_ Little fool. _

 

He wanted to see what would happen if he put her in charge. The girl had always had such a strong desire to please.  He would put her on his lap and she would have no idea what to do, but she would do her damndest to satisfy him. Even if she were an awkward, clumsy fool about it--and she probably would be; it was Granger, after all-- it aroused him to no end to imagine her  _ trying _ to get him off. And she certainly would. Just like any assignment she’d ever been given, Hermione Granger would go above and beyond what was required of her. She always had to excel. 

 

Afterwards, his head momentarily clear and his quiet panting the only sound in the empty room, Severus grimaced with disgust. He had never looked at a student in a sexual way until Hermione Bleeding Granger decided to take it upon herself to save him from his nasty curse. Now, it was all he could think about. He wanted to hate her, but really he just hated himself.

 

…..

 

Hermione watched Professor Snape all during class that Wednesday afternoon. He was back to the sickly, gray-skinned ghoul he had been before she went to him the first time. If he could make it this far again, he probably wasn’t going to give in. It made her angry. Didn’t he understand the risk he was taking? Why was he being so stubborn? And… again… was it up to her to save him from himself? 

 

He was hunched over his desk, staring blankly at some parchment instead of prowling the classroom the way he usually did. His hair was greasier than usual and he looked too thin. He caught her staring and narrowed his eyes, their black depths boring into her worried ones as she chewed her lip. He must have known what she was thinking, but he just turned back to the parchment on his desk like a predator too sick to catch its prey. 

 

So it was that Hermione found herself slowly packing away her things at the end of class and making her way up to her professor’s desk as the last students filtered out into the hall. 

 

Professor Snape didn’t so much as lift his eyes from the parchment on his desk, focusing on scribbling what were probably scathing remarks in bright red ink. “I thought I made myself clear, Miss Granger, that I did not intend to take you up on your offer.”

 

“But you gave me your consent…”

 

“Yes. In the case that  _ I came to you. _ I did not intend for you to corner me again, and you know that very well.” 

 

“Well that’s why I thought we’d talk before your next class arrives.”

 

His eyes did leap up to hers at that; glistening black eyes that shone with mischief. “This is my planning period,” he growled.

 

“Oh,” said Hermione, understanding very suddenly the position she had just put herself in. “Well, I only wanted to say that it’s foolishness to continue suffering the way you are when there’s another option. You need to be able to focus on…”

 

“I’ll thank you to let  _ me _ decide what I can and cannot handle, Miss Granger.”

 

“Oh, won’t you at least listen?”

 

“It’s hard enough at the moment to concentrate on remaining in my chair,” her professor confessed in a hiss, meeting her eye you convey the gravity of his words. “I will focus better when  _ you _ are out of the room.”

 

“But…”

 

“Don’t you understand the terrible thoughts I’m having as you stand there pitying me? This  _ thing _ , this  _ monster _ that I have inside of me… it doesn’t  _ care _ if you get hurt.”

 

“Well… all the more reason not to wait this long next time.”

 

At that, his eyes rolled back in his head and his frame relaxed. “Yes, Miss Granger,” he hissed in a breathless voice, keen black eyes turning on her once again. “You are right. We shouldn’t have waited. Come here, then,” he growled, patting the tops of his thighs and daring her with his dark gaze. 

 

Hermione’s eyes went wide and she took a step back. “I don’t know Professor. After everything you’ve just said…”

 

Professor Snape growled in frustration. It was a frightening and humiliating sound. “Do you insist on torturing me, girl?”

 

“No. I… I just don’t want you angry with me again.”

 

“Well of course I’ll be angry,” he snapped. “I wanted you to  _ leave me alone. _ ”

 

“I’ll just go, then,” she said, turning toward the door. 

 

“No!” The door slammed closed and she heard the lock grind into place. She spun around to see her professor leaning over his desk. He reached for her and then recoiled into himself, shrinking into a grotesque shadow of the man he was without this curse. “Granger, please,” he whined, hunched over his desk, his muscles tense, “I’m in pain,” he hissed. “Don’t make me beg.”

 

Her mouth went dry as heat throbbed between her legs and she bit her lip and nodded. Hesitating only briefly, she came around her professor’s desk in a few uncertain steps. It felt so wrong and forbidden that she cast an anxious glance at the door.

 

“Yes,” he hissed, grabbing onto her arm and pulling her toward him. She stumbled her way between his thighs, her hands catching on his shoulders; the only thing keeping her from collapsing into him. 

 

His greedy eyes roved over her body as his hands went straight to her skirt, slipping underneath and ripping her knickers down her thighs. She whimpered in the back of her throat but not with arousal. Suddenly, his eyes snapped to her face, the greedy desire fading away to something raw and human and afraid.  “I told you to go,” he choked out in a breathless voice. 

 

And it was for this man--the one strong enough to stop himself; the one alone and afraid and too ashamed to ask for help--that Hermione accepted what had to happen here. “It’s okay,” she murmured. “We’ll talk later.” And at that he sighed, the furrow in his brow relaxing slightly as he leaned back in his chair.

 

Awkward and uncertain, Hermione draped a leg across his lap, pulling herself fully into contact with the man. His hands landed on her thighs and his eyes fell shut as a pained whimper escaped his parted lips. 

 

With hasty, impatient fingers, he began to unbutton his trousers and when he opened his eyes she could see that they were clouded with arousal. Hermione bit her lip. She had been on top with Ron before, but never in a chair. The logistics were a little different. She sat back, glancing around awkwardly as he withdrew his visibly throbbing cock. But then he hesitated, letting go of it, leaving it to stand on its own while his hands wrapped around to cup her naked arse and pull her closer.  It felt so forbidden to be straddling her professor at his desk. She put her hands awkwardly on his upper arms as he slid down a little in his chair, pulling her forward so that his cock nestled between her naked folds. He growled, bucking beneath her in the most delicious way. Hermione gasped and hesitantly began to meet his movements, the slick friction sparking a fire in her core. 

 

Lifting herself up, Hermione took her professor’s cock in hand. He groaned, his mouth falling open, and she felt a surge of pride and power. And she realized that she had the upper hand. She was in charge. And she relished that control. 

 

Hermione waited until he was watching to bring a hand to her mouth and lick her palm. His eyes popped open in shock and then squeezed closed in pleasure, his head falling back against the chair, as she gripped him with that hand. Revelling in the feeling of power, Hermione didn’t hurry. She slid her fist up and down his cock, teasing the tip by rubbing it back and forth between her folds until he was bucking beneath her. It was intoxicating. 

 

“Please,” he whimpered. His eyes opened into lazy slits and his eyebrows furrowed as if with pain. 

 

Acquiescing, she began to take him inside of herself little by little. He moaned and writhed beneath her, his hands going to her waist to pull her down all the way onto him with one sharp thrust. They both gasped.  Bracing herself by gripping his upper arms, Hermione began to rock against her professor's lap, causing both of them to moan. She didn’t have to think about her movements. He was hitting a sweet spot deep inside her and all she wanted was more. And then he began to meet her movements with thrusts of his own until they were bucking against each other, anxious and impatient, chasing a mutual ecstasy. 

 

Suddenly, he stopped, his hands squeezing her waist, and he paused a long moment before he began to move again, more gently and carefully this time. If she didn’t know better, she would think he was trying to prolong the encounter. His hands came up to cup her breasts and she gasped aloud, arousal surging inside of her. He groaned. “Do you like that?” he asked. Despite herself, she nodded. “Let me see them,” he hissed. Her eyes went wide, but she hurried to comply, unbuttoning her shirt with hasty, uncoordinated fingers. Impatient, he pushed the cups of her bra up over her breasts and cupped her bare skin with a groan.  She yanked the loose garments up over her head and tossed them to the ground. “Ohhhhh yes,” he moaned, leaning back and dropping his hands to squeeze her arse and watch her breasts bounce as she rocked against his lap. His eyes were dark with lust and full of something unfamiliar on his face:  _ approval _ . 

 

Arousal surged within her and Hermione found herself bucking anxiously against him. His eyes went wide and his jaw dropped as he watched her, but that only stoked the flames. The sharp ecstasy teased a tenderness inside of her that only seemed to mount in pressure the faster she moved against him. She squeezed her eyes closed, panting, chasing the pleasure that loomed ever closer.  Suddenly, her professor gripped her thighs and began to hammer into her from beneath. It felt so good that Hermione cried out with each thrust, completely unselfconscious. Then he was moaning, too, squeezing his eyes closed as he froze beneath her, his fingertips biting into her thigh. 

 

When his body went limp, she collapsed against his chest, panting with him into the chilly air of the office. Hermione’s mind cleared before his did and her eyes went wide with fear. He was still panting, his hands stretched idly across her hips and arse, but he was going to be furious. She wanted to savor the feel of his buttons against her cheek, but she knew he would switch in a moment and she would have no excuse. 

 

When he finally did go still and his hands jerked away from her, she hesitantly pulled herself up to look down at him. His expression was that of alarm, but he said nothing. “S-sorry,” she said, lifting herself off of him. Pulling off of his flaccid cock seemed more intimate and shameful than anything else, especially with the awful wet sound it made as she did so. It was enough to shake Snape out of his shock. He hurried to cover himself, shame evident in the way he wouldn’t meet her eyes. She snatched her clothing off the floor and began to dress with her back to him, giving him the dignity of cleaning himself up without her appraisal. 

 

“I… I may have gone too far,” she said at length when he hadn’t said anything. He was still sitting in his chair, staring at the opposite wall. 

 

“Just go,” he said in a stiff voice. 

 

“I… er… got caught up in the moment…”

 

“ _ Go,  _ Granger!” he snapped, turning scowling eyes onto her. “You should have gone the first time I told you to.” 

 

“But…”

 

“Are you going to make me tell you again?”

 

“No,” she breathed, backing away from him. She strode toward the door, trying to regain some dignity by not slouching away. It took all of her willpower not to glance one more time in his direction as she opened his office door and stepped out into the corridor, closing it behind her. But once outside, Hermione Granger leaned back against the cold surface and pulled a hand over her face, feeling her cheeks fill with shame and cringing at the memory of what she’d just done. 


End file.
